


shall i compare thee to a summer's day

by Bondmaiden



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Kuroko in Rakuzan, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 02:13:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2564534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bondmaiden/pseuds/Bondmaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,<br/>And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.</p><blockquote>
  <p> </p>
  <p>    <i>If Seijūrō stays, Tetsuya stays. If Tetsuya leaves, Seijūrō leaves. The rest of the Rakuzan starters don't argue; they're an exclusive couple like that, and everyone's come to accept it as it is. </i><br/></p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	shall i compare thee to a summer's day

Tetsuya's hair is summer skies on a hot midday—brilliant blue with slivers of white, like the clouds dotting the vast canvas of Seijūrō's memories.

He complements the Rakuzan jersey best out of everyone on the team; soft, baby hues always looked flattering on his Tetsuya, and even Reo agrees with his point. Whenever Tetsuya dons his uniform, 11 for sentimentality's sake, pride blazes through Seijūrō's heart at Tetsuya's willingness to follow him to Kyoto. No, he did not force Tetsuya to pick between Seirin and Rakuzan, and no, he would never force Tetsuya to pick between him and _without_ him. Tetsuya's mature enough to make good decisions by himself, and he's obviously made the right choice in taking Seijūrō's hand as soon as Teikō ends their prepubescent tale with a full stop. 

Tetsuya is the soft spring breeze in Seijūrō's existence; he is everything that makes Seijūrō content with how the future might be.

It's a small step forward, but they're taking it together, so they can take their own sweet time to saunter through their story.

* * *

School starts at 8:30 a.m. As soon as Seijūrō gets out of the car, Tetsuya walks over and whispers a soft morning greeting. It's only cordial for him to reply, so he does, and they both exchange secret smiles as they plod through Rakuzan's front gate. At times like this, Seijūrō likes to run his fingers through Tetsuya's mess he proudly calls his hair; the tangles, the knotted ends, the coarseness hiding within the limp spikes. It's a stark difference from his; smooth, manageable, trimmed. Tetsuya never cared much for his hair; apparently, brushing it on a daily basis is enough, even though he has the serum repair kit he got from Ryōta for his birthday. 

Perhaps if Tetsuya stays over his family's house one day, Seijūrō will run his comb through Tetsuya's hair in the morning and try to domesticate it himself. 

_One day_ , he tells himself, so he'll have to be patient until then.

They stride alongside giggling girls and gossipy groups, keeping their shoes inside the lockers—side by side with each other, how convenient—to withdraw their indoor shoes instead. Mayuzumi sweeps past them with his nose buried inside another light novel, **My Little Sister Can't be This Cute** proudly emblazoned on the glossy cover, and he only rumbles a quiet _good morning_ when Tetsuya's the first one to greet him out of his reading stupor. Of course, after that brief exchange of pleasantries, the third-year senior pushes past girl groupies and disappears on his way upstairs to the third floor. 

“He’s quite unsociable in the morning,” Tetsuya says, shaking his head.

Seijūrō laughs and holds Tetsuya close by the shoulder; they, too, squeeze past the stew of students to get to their classroom on time, Mayuzumi’s name playing on their lips.

* * *

Instead of one shadow, Rakuzan's basketball group is blessed with two. 

Tetsuya's stamina is abysmal, although he's been working hard to improve it ever since Seijūrō goads him with promises of reward if he performs well in the team. On the other hand, Mayuzumi practices hard to be like, but not like the original shadow of Teikō. He's got better stamina and strength to be the newest model of Rakuzan's slick shadow slider, but his abilities are still subpar. At the very least, he can shoot well enough to score them some points if Tetsuya's benched. One is always better than two, and with this strategy, they can afford to exchange members at their luxury. 

His reasoning? Seijūrō wants the team to have easy access to their elite brand of basketball, the kind he's familiar with back in Teikō. He's sure Tetsuya appreciates this sentiment as well, from the little smiles he gives during toss practices. It's almost like Teikō days, but better now that it’s only the two of them.

(In hindsight, Mayuzumi's trained to work with everyone's style, while Tetsuya's virtually behind Seijūrō as his shadow double; nobody performs harmonically with Seijūrō other than Tetsuya himself. It's a given, seeing how long they've been together with each other.)

On the scarcer days where their military-like regime ends early, Reo invites everyone to catch the bus and have dinner together at their usual udon hut. Nebuya's never one to turn down a foodie galore while Hayama doesn’t object to sticking together for a little while longer. It's usually Mayuzumi who rejects the offer because he doesn't like to stay out late—"I'd rather finish up Project DIVA F 2nd," is the excuse he usually gives, even though a PlayStation Vita is portable enough to be carried to the dinner table. 

What about Seijūrō and Tetsuya, then?

Well, they can figure things out by themselves. If Seijūrō stays, Tetsuya stays. If Tetsuya leaves, Seijūrō leaves. The rest of the Rakuzan starters don't argue; they're an exclusive couple like that, and everyone's come to accept it as it is.

* * *

Seijūrō doesn’t get many chances to walk Tetsuya home. On the rare occasions where his driver runs late, Seijūrō promptly packs up his bag and urges Tetsuya to do the same. Every minute is precious now, each meter already calculated in Seijūrō’s mind from the moment they step out of the locker room to the point where he drops Tetsuya off at his rented dorm, so they must hurry, hurry, _hurry._ Once the lights are off and the doors properly locked and secured, they jog over to Rakuzan’s gates. They don’t forget to lace their fingers together, just clinging on to the precious moments whilst trying to make new ones.

Under the orange glow of the street lamps and the occasional rush of cars speeding along the street, a lush carpet of stars spread over their heads. Their moments of weakness begin manifesting. Without the eyes of predators watching their every move, Tetsuya’s grasp tightens as he tips his head to the side, leaning against Seijūrō’s ever-able shoulder. 

And Seijūrō, too, returns Tetsuya’s touch. 

(“Do you still love me?” he might’ve whispered months before, warm puffs the only solid remains of his words.)

He walks his boyfriend—yes, his boyfriend, and no, his stomach didn’t just lurch giddily like a silly cliché—right into the front yard, stopping by the dim fluorescent glow of the bulb. Fingers knotted together, Seijūrō lightly taps Tetsuya on the nose to break him out of the spell and watches as the shorter teen reluctantly withdraws from his side. Sleepy sweet, Tetsuya rubs his eyes, stifling a yawn behind his hand.

“See you tomorrow, Akashi-kun.”

“Of course, Tetsuya. Rest well.”

Neither moved, despite their farewells.

* * *

(Now, he doesn’t need the answer anymore.)


End file.
